More evidence that things are tough this winter …
This is probably the wallaby I see from time to time in the bush at the back of my house. I’ve never seen her in the front garden before, but the lure of lush green grass and fresh water was probably too much for her to resist. I watched from the veranda for a few minutes before she hopped off across the garden.
After a dry Spring and a dry Summer, now we’re having a cold dry Winter. It’s hard on the wildlife and I suspect that’s why I seem to have many more visiting birds than usual. There’s so much sploshing around in the bird bowl that I’m having to refill it twice a day.
Yesterday I noticed this White-faced Heron strutting around the pond. It had stopped in either for a drink, or to terrorise the few remaining goldfish by staring trance-like into the water. It seemed relatively un-concerned with my presence, and allowed me to get fairly close before retreating with its characteristic slow-motion walk.
After exploring the garden for half an hour or so, it wandered slowly and elegantly off down my driveway – probably heading for my neighbours pond.
This morning I ventured up the mountain to the Made in Dorrigo street market. Dorrigo is located on the Northern Tablelands at 731 metres (2,398 feet), it’s potato country and normally quite a bit colder than Bellingen, but by the time I reached the top of the mountain, it was an almost balmy 12 degrees. Nevertheless being a bit of a wimp when it comes to cold, I needed a second (and third !!) breakfast of coffee and churros to warm me up.
Amongst the usual Country Women’s Association type stalls selling knitted and crocheted “things” (and I’m not sure what some of them were) there were a few gems. Like Waterfall Glass, selling beautiful bowls made from recycled glass.
I had to buy this beautiful little heart soap dish.
Being a frog-aholic, I couldn’t resist cards drawn by local artist Chris Hundt.
Throw in some fresh local produce and tempting home-baked goods and it was definitely worth braving the cold. And next time might hold back on the coffee and churros and warm myself with some of Red Dirt Distillery’s Ginger Liqueur.
It’s that time of the year again. When we intercept each other in the street and ask in a slightly desperate tone “Would you like some oranges, or lemons, or cumquats, or mandarins, or limes, or grapefruit ?”
We’ve all fed our citrus trees on cow poo, potash, blood and bone and garden lime two to four times a year and now we’ve been rewarded with a bumper crop. The only trouble is, EVERYONE has a bumper crop, and no-one really NEEDS a bumper crop. All we really need is enough for a few pots of marmalade, preserved lemons or citrus butter.
With all this overabundance, I could be excused for ignoring a small tree just visible in the bush at the back of my garden. It turns out to be a naturalised lemon, what in Australia we call a bush lemon. For “naturalised” read a bit feral, scruffy and covered in thorns. Apparently they shoot from pips from cultivated lemons and pop up along waterways and near old homesteads. They have a wonderfully scented nobbly skin, lots of pips and not much juice.
As the peel seems to be the best part, I’ve decided to make some preserved lemons and candied peel. I’ve varied the standard preserved lemon recipe by cutting the lemons into quarters which means that I can wedge lemon into every corner of the jar and I need less juice. Hopefully this won’t affect the outcome. I’ll know in a month or two…
I might also try a vintage recipe – like this one from the Brisbane Courier Mail in June 1945 – which won Mrs Jeffs two shillings and sixpence.
And … in recognition of the citrus glut, our local Bellopy Organic Market is starting a citrus festival – where people with an excess of citrus can set up stalls to sell their produce and win prizes. They can also sell their recipes and donate the proceeds to charity. Great idea, perhaps I’ll give the bush lemon tree a bit of manure and set up a stall next year!
A Bellingen Diary 